A Mother's Love
by Annabeth Black
Summary: "I have so much more to lose than the other contestants Finnick. You have to help me win." I beg. "And why is that?" He raises an eyebrow and I want to punch him. He KNOWS this. "Because I have my baby to go back for."
1. Reaped

Even through it is 5 o'clock in the morning and my beautiful baby girl is bawling her tiny head off in the crudely carved cot at the end of my bed, I can still tell that it's the morning of the Reaping. Sabrina, my younger sister by four years, tosses restlessly in her nest made up of blankets in the corner nearest the door and my old teddy bear 'Mr Snugglepuff' is being held in a choke-hold by skinny tanned arms. Normally Brina is the most peaceful sleeper on the planet so if she has 'Mr Snugglepuff' in a choke-hold, something is most definitely wrong and I know what that wrong is. Only one day brings out this change in her: Reaping Day. Then there was my Don, who usually had a relaxed hold on me while we slept but now it was cage-like, trapping me next to him and making it impossible to go to Anna whose cries were getting steadily louder. The neighbours are going to come barging round any minute now – or at least the ones who had the luxury of sleeping in this late – if I can't get Anna to be quiet and I am not in the mood to deal with those idiots this early in the morning, especially not on Reaping Day.

"Don," Rolling over so that we're face-to- face I whisper in his ear, stroking the hair out of his eyes. This is the best way to wake him up without him cursing the house down. "Don you need to let go of me."

"No," He groans groggily, automatically drawing me closer to him. "They can't have you."

Yes, it's most definitely Reaping Day. Not that Don would ever let me be stolen by another man but he knows that I could never in a million years leave him. The "they" he's referring to are the insane citizens of the Capitol and their barbaric Hunger Games.

"No one's taking me anywhere Don but our baby needs me." And she does. Her bawls are getting louder and sending me on edge. What if she's ill? There could be only seconds between life and death and oh my god, my baby might be dying. Panic sets in. What's wrong with her?

"Anna?" His eyelids flutter signalling that he's awake now and can hear our baby's cries. Finally.

"Yes, Anna. Let me go to her." Kissing his forehead to persuade him to do my bidding, I wriggle around a bit for emphasis. I want to escape. I need to get to Anna _now._

His arm retracts from around my waist, a small grunt from him signalling that he's not happy about it but I don't care. My baby needs me. Springing out of bed, I whisk Anna out of her cot and into my arms. Instantly she stops crying and I sigh with relief. Her sea green eyes – the exact same shade as her father's – lock onto mine and she visibly relaxes. Whenever she does this it makes me feel very special because I'm the only person she ever stops crying for straight away but then again, I'm her mother and that is how it should be. She's wrapped up in an old fraying green towel because of how cold it was last night. We couldn't find enough blankets to go around all of us so we gave most of them to Brina and wrapped my precious baby up in some old towels which had hopefully been as warm as if she was wrapped in blankets.

"Did someone have a bad dream?" I coo, planting her on my hip and picking out her yellow flannel fish from the cot. "Did the big sea monsters knock over Mr Fish?" As Anna snatches her fish from me, I jump to reposition her and take her into the kitchen.

Don might not go back to sleep but Brina's still out like a light and I'd rather it stay that way. Impulsively, I look over at the bed where my parents should be. Even though they've already gone out to work I can't help but think that they're there, still sleeping or whispering to each other. They aren't there though, just like I knew they wouldn't be but their absence reminds me that I have work this morning and so does Don. When I learnt that we had to work, even on Reaping Day, I was so shocked but then again, I should have expected it. Why would the Capitol want to waste precious time and labour? It brought them no benefit so they obviously wouldn't do it, the scumbags.

Smiling down at Anna, she nuzzles up against me and I allow myself to gently stroke her chocolate brown curls. It's time to make her a bottle so I do just that. It's a simple task that doesn't require thinking too much about the process so I let my mind wander. It turns to the dark place of realization that in eleven years it's going to be Anna in my place, not quite so literally but on this day she'll be getting ready for her first Reaping. What an idiot I am for having a baby, at sixteen too. I've produced another child ready for the Capitol's taking in their evil games. What have I done? But Anna is by no means a mistake or an accident, she is absolutely wonderful and I love every second I spend with her so despite the fact that she was unplanned, she will never be called that. _Ever_. Not if the person calling her that wants to live.

"How long until your shift?" I hear Don enter the room and I turn to look at him. He's framed in the bedroom doorway in nothing but boxers and I smirk at him, my previous dark thoughts temporarily forgotten. I swear if it were legal Don wouldn't wear any clothes at all. How he manages to get by wearing the bare minimum without freezing his balls off elude me but it doesn't matter really. I love him, with clothes or without.

"I have to be there in about an hour. What about you?" Wrapping a towel around my hand, I pluck Anna's bottle out of the warming pot over the fire and hand it to her.

Wordlessly Don hugs me and I know that while we're both trying to keep calm we're actually petrified. It's Don's last Reaping, my second to last and if one or even both of us get picked… I don't even want to entertain the thought but Anna is our life. Members of our family have died so that we could keep her and stay together. We can't be picked. We just can't.

"Hour and a half. Do you want me to take her so you can eat?" Don's smooth lips move against my forehead as he speaks.

"I'm not hungry." My stomach growls, betraying me but I don't feel hungry. It suddenly strikes me that I didn't eat last year and look what happened…

"Baby, please." Don begs me in a low voice. Is he thinking the same thing? That not eating will jinx my chances?

"No, I'm fine. Besides, it can't happen twice in a row anyway." I force a smile for him, pretending to believe my own lie but I don't, not even for a moment but from the look of it Don does.

"Of course it can't," He says reassuringly, kissing my forehead but who is he reassuring: himself or me?

Time isn't my side this morning and before I know it I have to leave for work. Outside the sun is shining in an irritatingly cheerful manner that doesn't reflect the mood of the district whatsoever. Peacekeepers infect this part of the district, patrolling the streets to make sure everyone is doing what they should be. It's not hard to guess why there are more of them than usual. They're here to make sure those of us invited to the Reaping go there while the rest of us are forced into work. Making my way down to the coastline, I keep my head bowed and avoid eye contact with others, just like everyone else is doing. It's very quiet despite the great number of people walking in each and every direction. They're all thinking the same thing, I can tell. They're wondering who's going to be picked as our districts tributes. Will it be someone they know? Will we actually get a champion this year? I don't want to think about it so I quicken my pace, keeping my head low and my ears shut. I wish I could shrug off all the looks I keep getting though. Just glances from people who probably remember me from last year's Reaping. Boy, wasn't that an event and a half…

No, I am not letting my mind go there. I need to focus on getting to work. The sooner I get there the sooner I can return to my loved ones.

About twenty metres back from the coast is a small shack made out of rotting wood that was painted a cheery blue about ten years ago. Needless to say it's falling apart but they don't care. The roof is still propped up so we can use it. There are huge holes in the walls though and no glass in the windows so when there's a particularly icy wind coming off of the sea, we all freeze due to our district wear. Young females have to wear short, ruffled blue skirts that come about half of the way down our thighs over a swimsuit in the same colour. We also have black coats that come down to our knees and stop at our elbows. My coat hangs off my shoulders as it's a bit big. All citizens have the same sturdy black rubber boots and I tend to wear long black socks with mine in an attempt to protect my legs from the cold. All weavers tend to wear fingerless black gloves made of cloth (mine are the same blue as my skirt and swimsuit) to stop our hands from being damaged by rope burns and we're allowed to wear a little jewellery, mainly wedding rings but I wear a little seashell on a thin string that Don got me when we found out I was pregnant with Anna. It's absolutely beautiful, even if the bottom is slightly chipped. I rarely take it off.

When I walk in the door the clock tells me I'm five minutes early, not that it matters really. I need to work. There's a pile of orange plastic buckets with weaving materials next to the door. I grab one and sit as close to the door as possible without being tripped on by my co-workers.

Four Peacekeepers and the Master Weaver watch over us, patrolling between the gaps separating each person from the next, making sure we're doing our job properly four the next four and a half hours. The work is mind-numbingly dull, especially for the amount of time we have to spend on it. Being as worried as I am, my hands are moving quickly and time is going oh so slowly. I've doubled my quota (all of the nets in perfect condition) in the time so far and I'm still going. I need to focus on something to keep my fear at bay and this is it. This is my escape. Weaving shall be my salvation.

Master Weaver Adele seems to be very impressed with all of my work when she comes to inspect it. The clock reads that I still have half an hour left to walk but after a quick and quiet conversation with our supervising Peacekeepers she beams over at me and tells me I can leave early. I can't quite understand… no one ever gets to leave early but I do. Wow, that's a first but I want to get home to Brina and Anna who are waiting all alone in the house.

While I run, I can't shrug the feeling that I'm fleeing for my life through the familiar streets. Blood thirsty tributes from Districts 1 and 2 lurk in the shadows, faceless and non-existent – I know this but in my mind they're still there and I want to do nothing but run from them.

"Oceana, you look like you've seen a ghost." Brina is standing there in front of me.

Where did she come from and where's Anna? Oh god, they haven't taken her have they? If they have I'll rip their tongues out and removed their spines through their arseholes and- Wait, Anna's just there, sitting on the floor just in front of you. She's fine. They haven't gotten her. She's safe. She's in the house with you and Brina and oh god, I'm going to throw up.

"I need Anna," I'm panting from how quickly I ran through the streets but I don't care about how weak I feel right now. I need my baby girl in my arms. I have to know she's safe.

Wordlessly, Brina picks up my lovely baby girl, dressed in a little white cloth dress that both Brina and I wore as infants and passes her into my arms. I hold Anna close, despite her squirms and wordless protests. No way am I letting go yet. The feeling that she's there, that the Capitol can't hurt her yet, it hasn't… clicked.

"I'm sorry baby." I murmur an apology into Anna's ear, relinquishing my hold to give her more breathing room.

"She's been good." Brina pipes up, shifting from foot to foot. I recognise her nervous look and realise that it's due to my odd behaviour.

"Thanks Brina," I smile, breezing over the whole weird moment. "Let's get you prettied up."

In the living room a large metal tub stands ready for us. While Brina washes in the fire-warmed water I go into the bedroom with Anna on my hip and lay our Brina's nicest dress which is a long, sunshine yellow dress that used to be mother's. My dress was actually my grandmother's who was the daughter of a merchant. It's a chocolate brown colour and made of a shimmery brown material that matches my hair perfectly. It rests just off my shoulders and the folds of the skirt fall just below me knees. I absolutely adore this dress. I'd rather wear this to my wedding than a second hand white thing any day and I'm sure Don would agree with me if he ever decides to pop the question. He better ask me or I will kill him. If I can't have him then no one can. End of story. He's mine.

I hear the front door open and close. Is it Don or my parents? Two familiar voices fill the house so I know it's my parents. Relaxation ebbs away at me, slowly breaking my defences down as their presence warms the house. Mum will take care of Brina from now on and Dad will take Anna for me while I bathe and do other stuff. I can't completely relax though, despite the presence of my parents. No, I can't relax completely. Not on Reaping Day.

"Do you need me to take her?" My dad asks, slowly walking into the room.

His thinning, straight hair is almost all grey now. When did that happen? And why is there a small ginger patch right on the top of his head? It looks so odd.

"Yes please Daddy," I smile, ignoring the arch oh his back and the purple bruises under his eyes. He doesn't like us mentioning them or trying to help him. The idiot old man is too proud for his daughters' help.

He reaches out for Anna so I place her gently in his arms. I don't want to let her go, especially as she starts to whimper when I removed my hands but I must get ready. The Capitol hasn't given me a choice.

The bath water has gone cold because mother and Brina have taken so long but I don't mind. I'd rather Brina had warm water than cold anyway and I ought not spend too long in here as time is now flying by and the Reaping is less than an hour away.

Don walks in as I get out of the bath and it strikes me how late he is. Before I can say a simple hello to him Dad whisks me off to the bedroom so that I can change. My mother helps me into it and remains quiet as she zips me in.

"Your hair looks so lovely down. We should leave it that way." She tells me stiffly after a long silent pause.

Ever since I had Anna she's always acted slightly off with me. When it first started happening I thought it was because I didn't name my daughter after her but now I'm not so sure. I do know though that she doesn't fully understand the events of last year but I do and because of it, even now I'm still in debt to Anna's namesake. Anna is my baby's name because I owe her the girl she was named after more than my life, I owe her my everything and I just wish my mother could understand that and just tell me why she treats me the way she does.

We don't have a mirror at all so I can't confirm or dispute my mother's statement. Automatically I run my fingers through my curly dark brown hair. It feels so silky after being washed and I love the feel of it. Anna loves the feel of it too and I can hear her cooing as she runs her chubby baby fingers through it from behind me.

"Doesn't mummy look beautiful Anna?" Don asks. He's holding her up then. It's odd that I didn't hear them coming. Usually I do.

Anna gurgles happily in response, still playing with my hair so I take it as a yes. I can feel the smile spreading on my face and I have no control over it. Moments like these are so precious to me, they make life worthwhile.

A short, sharp wail signals from outside, telling us that it's time to head to the Justice Building as I open my mouth to say something to Don but I've already forgotten what it was I was going to tell him. Don pulls me off the bed to hold me tightly. His head rests on mine and I can tell he's smelling my hair. I try not to let that distract me though by kissing Anna' forehead instead and stroking her soft baby curls. In this light they look almost red but in the sunlight you can tell her hair is the same colour as mine.

Right here, right now I feel same. In Don's arms nothing can touch me and no one can make me leave them. Panic seeps through me as he lets go through and I'm not sure why. My name is in the bowl twice, unlike Don's whose is in there ten times. There's no way I will be picked this year so its Don I really ought to worry about and I am worried about him – I may never see him again but I feel like it's because I'm going to be sent into the arena, not him. It's a stupid and next to impossible feat (my getting sent into the arena) but I just can't help but think it's going to happen.

"No, Oceana, don't you dare start panicking now." Don orders me harshly, sensing my fear. "It won't happen again. There's no way your name can be called out two years in a row."

"But what-?" Don cuts me off with a sharp look as he catches the tears in my eyes.

"Oceana, it's not going to happen so get it out of your head." He's angry and it's my fault. I hate myself. I'm only making things worse but I can't stop feeling scared.

"Okay," Nodding shakily I swallow the lump in my throat.

"Now go give Anna to your mother or Dad and come back here." He instructs me, never breaking eye contact.

Unable to say no, I do as I'm told. I don't dare look at my mother as I pass my precious baby to her, nor do I look into Brina or Dad's eyes as I kiss their cheeks goodbye. Looking at Anna I almost lose my crumbling composure but I keep it together to kiss her forehead again and make a whispered promise to see her later. Watching them leave is a waste of time so I rush back to Don who immediately takes me into his arms and holds me close.

"Oceana?" He asks nervously, holding me at arm's length. I don't like this break in contact. I want more hugs.

"Yes Don?" I ask quietly, trying to remain focused.

"You know I'm not very good at expressing my feelings, right?" He keeps eye contact with me but I can't see much behind his eyes, which have fogged over, blocking my access to his brain.

I nod in reply.

"But you know that I'll love you no matter what, right?" He clarified. Was that desperation in his tone?

"Don, where is this going?" I voice my thoughts. I'm confused. Of course I know he'll love me no matter what.

"Well it's just – it's just-" he bites his lip and looks at the floor for a moment before getting down onto one knee.

He's not.

"Oceana, I want you to marry me."

He is.

"Oceana, please, say something."

"Oh." My voice sounds so small and distant.

I'm trying to kick my brain back into gear. Isn't this what I wanted?

But it happened so soon. I wasn't ready for it.

What am I talking about? Of course I am. This is what I want and I can finally have it. I can have Don all to myself.

"Oh?" Don sounds disappointed. That won't do at all.

"Yes. Yes I want to marry you." I nod, slowly at first but then more enthusiastically.

A grin breaks out over Don's face as he stands up again. He pulls a small wooden box out of his black trouser pocket and hands it to me. Inside was a ring made up of three copper bands woven together. Wedding rings are so uncommon in the district… It's beautiful but what on earth did he have to go through to get this? The ring glints in the sunlight streaming through the window as Don slides the ring onto my finger.

"Don…" My voice has gone all hushed again.

"Yes?" He looks up at me, grinning.

"I love you."

I bend my head to kiss him lightly on the lips but it quickly turns into something hotter and more passionate. It's too easy to forget who I am and where we are when Don kisses me like this. If it were humanly possible I'm sure I would melt in his arms. Right now I can feel my knees buckling beneath me.

"We. Have. To. Go." Don tells me between kisses.

No we don't. The only place we're going is into bed.

"Don't shake your head at me miss. We have to go." He breaks away for breath but I just drag his face back to mine.

"I don't want to go out there." I whine against his lips.

"Peacekeepers," He responds but he doesn't stop kissing me – he wants me as much as I want him.

"Screw Peacekeepers," It's a dangerous thing to say but it's how I feel and I always tell Don how I feel.

"Oceana. Oceana later. I promise later." His kisses trail down to the base of my neck, leaving little tingling spots where each one was placed.

The small action meant he was being truthful to what he was saying. Disappointed, I allow Don to give me a final lingering kiss before I fix both our hair. Holding hands we join the final trickle of people heading towards the Justice Building. When we finally join the lines of people signing in Don literally has to prise his hand out of mine when we separate into boys and girls. I don't want to let him go. He can't protect me from all the way over there. He needs to stay with me.

"I love you." He whispers in my ear, reminding me before joining his fellow eighteen year old males.

My mind feels numb without his presence. I stumble through the endless see of girls, unable to find where I stand. They all look the same, sun-kissed skin, light brown/blonde hair, brown eyes and blue frocks. Finally I see where I'm meant to be and stand there, swaying on the spots. The mindless murmurs of other victims around me dim into an irritating background humming noise that is easily ignored. I focus my gaze on the stage and to our living victors.

Only five out of the seven of them have showed up: There's Mags, our oldest living victor, in the wooden chair on the far left, whispering to Finnick, the youngest sane victor we have and our district's mentor. He's discreetly holding the hand of Annie, the girl driven insane when she saw the head of the other tribute from our district chopped off in front of her. I was too young to remember that year but I know that it was the Games the year after Finnick won and I've heard the stories – we all have. Next to Annie (who is rocking in her chair and staring at the few clouds drifting across the sky) is River who won the 55th Hunger Games and on his left is Pearl. I can't remember anything about Pearl at all but I can tell she's a morphling addict from her sagging yellow skin which isn't very helpful. Our other two victors, Seaweed and Articula, are a married alcoholic couple so I guess they're probably at home ripping each other's throats out or something…

Silence falls around me as Maybel Prince, District 4's Capitol Escort, takes to the stage. She's green. Literally. Her skin is a dark olive green and her eyes and hair are a matching shade of emerald green that fades towards the bottom. Just from the look of her you can tell Maybel's never been starved in her life. She has large hips and a waist that's not much smaller, thick arms and legs and a pair of boobs that are practically spilling out of her puffy pinky-purple top, not to mention the fact that her black pencil skirt looks like it's going to rip at the seams.

"Hello, hello ladies and gentlemen, boys and girls. Welcome to the Reaping for the 73rd annual Hunger Games! Good luck to all our potential tributes and may the odds be _ever_ in your favour," Maybel talks in a sickly sweet girly voice that doesn't belong to a woman of her size and sounds very odd tainted in her thick Capitol accent.

"Ladies first." She beams at us all, waddling over to the giant glass bowl that contains the names of girls between 12 and 18 from District 4 because her skirt is too tight to allow her to walk properly. A preliminary drawing last week got rid of at least two thirds of children in the district but there are still probably at least two thousand names in our bowl anyway. I can't remember how I know this, I just do and my stomach shreds itself as Maybel sticks her chubby fist straight into the bowl an pulls out a name.

Maybel doesn't have the patience for suspense as she practically runs back to the microphone and reads the name aloud.

"Oceana Weaver-Smith."

I knew it.

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	2. Goodbyes

…_my stomach shreds itself as Maybel sticks her chubby fist straight into the bowl and pulls out a name. _

_Maybel doesn't have the patience for suspense as she practically runs back to the microphone and reads the name aloud._

"_Oceana Weaver-Smith."_

_I knew it._

"Oceana Weaver-Smith."

My eyes close to block out the stares of the girls around me. Someone will volunteer in my place. Someone please.

I'm being stupid though. No one will volunteer for me, especially as this is the second year in a row that my name has been picked. Don has no more sisters to volunteer to take my place – he's already lost both of them to the games – and I have no friends willing to die for me. Brina definitely won't do it. Since she was little I've been drilling it into her NEVER to volunteer no matter what happens so there's no way she'd do it. Hopefully she wouldn't even think about doing it but I can never be sure about what Brina thinks about.

"Oceana? Where are you dear?" Maybel calls from the stage, her eyes scanning the crowd hungrily for my trembling figure.

Girls standing near me start moving away as if I'm a leaper or something and it makes me feel sick. My eyes open again as my head raises high. I will not let my fear show. The crowd parts around me as I head towards the Justice Building. The large concrete square that is the Justice Building looks so out of place among all of the rundown wooden buildings covered in faded white paint and seashells. I don't know why I'm thinking that, I just am.

I can feel a hand that belongs to a peacekeeper on my back as I start the walk to the beginning of my death and immediately I pull away from it. If I'm going, I'm going alone and by my own will, not by the will of others. If I'm going, I'm going alone. I don't want their filthy hands touching me. My eyes lock onto Maybel's, hopefully clearly defiant, so that I don't start searching desperately for my loved ones. I cannot bear to look at them just yet. The path in front of me stretches out into a mile. I'm finding it impossible not to think back to last year.

At eight months pregnant, attending the Reaping was the last thing that I wanted to do. I'd been off my feet for the past month at least and moving killed me. Grudgingly work had permitted me maternity leave because I couldn't walk five steps without being in a lot of pain and almost falling over – Anna was a very heavy baby (although I didn't know she was going to be Anna just then).

The nicest thing my mother owned from her maternity days was a pair of denim dungarees embroidered with coral coloured flowers and a matching button up blouse so that was what I had to wear to the Reaping. I can remember that it was pure agony trying to get to the Justice Building and Don almost broke his back because he was being an idiot. Luckily we had his older sister, Anna, to help and support me all the way to my spot in the sixteen-year-old girl category where Shelly, a girl from my class at school, and Armina, a girl who lived across the road from me, helped hold me up. I told them not to, to let me collapse on the floor but they were hearing none of it despite the fact that they were struggling under my weight in the blazing heat.

Everyone was muttering about how ridiculous it was that I was not exempt from the Reaping but teenage pregnancies are so rare in Panem apparently that there isn't a rule protecting girls like me from the Games. It makes sense though maybe, because if there was a rule banning pregnant girls from the Games then there would be a rise in teenage pregnancies across Panem which wouldn't be good at all for the Capitol.

Maybel was there last year, wearing the same outfit that she's wearing today (is it some kind of uniform or something?) No one around me was paying her or the mayor the slightest bit of attention though as they did their introductory speeches. They were all too concerned about me and my two props. Come to think of it, it was probably my loud panting that distracted them. I felt physically sick probably because I hadn't eaten breakfast that morning and was about ready to collapse, as were they so when Maybel called out my name all three of us collapsed into a heap on the floor.

My first thought was that I was going to give birth, unaided, in the arena and that both my baby and I would die. The possibility of someone volunteering for me didn't register as a possibility and from the look of the Peacekeepers as they hauled me out of the heap, going up on stage wasn't an option. With their help I stepped out of the crowd in all of my pregnant glory. I could hear Don and Brina screaming my name from where they stood and I swear my heart tore itself into pieces inside my chest. Tears streamed down my face as the Peacekeepers holding me held onto me tighter.

"Wait! WAIT! I VOLUNTEER! I volunteer in her place!" Someone shouts from behind us.

We all turn to see Anna running out of the crowd. She was tall and slim with dirty blonde hair and eyes like Don's. The peacekeepers had let go of me and as I wasn't able to remain standing without help so I fell in a heap on the floor.

"Anna, don't-"

"Shut up Oceana." Her words were not unkind but we both know that Anna was doing the right thing by volunteering, even if it meant risking her own life.

"Let me through! That's my sister and she's carrying my baby!" Don was yelling at a pair of peacekeepers that were trying to keep him from us.

Don managed to break through and I swear if I was standing up Don would have knocked me over with the force that he barrelled into me with. I think I must have started hyperventilating or something because I remember being dizzy and panicking but not much more. I can remember Don talking to Anna urgently as she was being dragged away to the stage while I was moved to the back of the penned area away from the cameras. Once Don was dragged away from his sister he was lead to 'restrain' me. I remember his arms around me as he knelt on the floor and cried into my hair. Would he cry now? Why shouldn't he? He's lost two sisters to the Games and if he loses me… If I were in his position I'd cry.

Everything after Anna was called up on the stage was a blurry haze. I only remember Don's safe, strong arms. Part of me right now wishes that Anna was here to volunteer for me again, as selfish as that sounds. No, that's wrong. I'm disgusted with myself. I shouldn't be thinking about bringing a girl to life only to condemn her to die again. Thoughts like that make me ashamed of myself. I'm no better than the Capitol if I think like that.

"How lovely to see you again dear." Maybel beams as I ascend the stage. I want to punch her in the face and knock out all of her glittering pearl teeth but I can't – I'd be shot on the spot and they'd just pick another girl tribute – so I settle for a curt nod instead.

"And now for the boys." Maybel announces, waddling away from me and over to the giant bowl of boys names.

Without trying my eyes have found Don and by the looks of things he's about to volunteer. I glare at him shaking my head slightly so it's barely noticeable. My gaze flickers over to the front of a butcher's shop where my father holds Anna tightly in his arms as a steady stream of tears flow down his thin and wrinkled face. The mortified look that haunts his eyes makes it seem as though he's been given the death sentence but it's not him, it's me.

Don follows my line of vision and then looks from Anna's face to mine. Tears well up in his eyes but he nods at me slowly. Don understands that Anna needs him more to protect her from the harsh life of the districts than I need him to protect me from killers in the arena. There is no way in hell I'm letting my baby grow up without both of her parents because if Don came into the arena with me and he died, I can't see any course of action where I'd come out alive.

In a single blink another boy is on stage with me. I was so absorbed in convincing Don not to volunteer that I missed the boys' reaping and the name of my fellow tribute. His eyes… there's something about them. They're narrow with large brown pupils that shimmer in the afternoon sun. I definitely know him from somewhere. Maybe school? He's definitely older than me and built like a tanned brick wall. I'd stand no chance against him in the arena. Is it too early give up on life? Yes, yes it is.

"Now you two shake hands." Maybel orders cheerily.

Unable to look at my fellow tribute, I avert my gaze to see Finnick whispering to Mags. His eyes are trained onto mine for some weird reason and he looks… upset. I can feel the blood rushing to my cheeks but luckily I don't have time to worry about it as Peacekeepers whisk both the boy and I into the Justice Building. I must stop calling that boy the other tribute or the boy. I'm sure that he has a name but then again, won't it just make it worse when we're forced to kill each other if we're on first name terms?

Once in the Justice Building I'm instantly escorted to and locked in a room on my own while some Peacekeepers round up my family to say their goodbyes. I don't bother to take in my surroundings as I wait for them; I just keep waiting for the shock to start sinking in and to start freaking out but the freak just isn't coming.

Brina is sent to me first with father and they're both in tears. Brina's cropped wavy hair is flying everywhere as she sobs, clinging to me while father looks on at us doing nothing. I'm the one comforting them now because they have to stay strong for me and for Anna and Don.

"You must make sure Don eats and sleeps. If I- If I don't come back he's going to be all Anna has in the way of parents. Do not let him fall apart for everyone's sake." I order them once they've calmed a bit. It's eerie how calm I am but that is unimportant. My family needs to be taken care of.

"We will Oceana, I promise." Brina nods tearfully, still clinging to me like a small child.

"Don't you dare die young lady, do you hear me?" My father laughs shakily but nothing about this situation is funny. It's probably shock getting to him.

"Time's up." A peacekeeper, female, enters the room to escort them out.

Brina kicks up a huge fuss, causing me to cry. I can't bear her screams not can I watch as more peacekeepers arrive to literally pick up her up and take her from the room. Instead I'm looking out of the tiny barred window, not that I can actually see anything. I'm crying too much. I'm only alone for about a minute before the door opens again but I don't turn to see who it is.

"I know you probably don't want to see me and I know that over that I've not been a very good mother to you this past year.

"Mum, don't." I can't deal with this. Not now so I keep my eyes glued to the window. Maybe she'll leave. But if she leaves we'll never deal with this. Is that really how I want to end my relationship with my mother?

"I don't care if you don't want to hear this but I need to tell you how sorry I am for not being there when you needed me. You're so grown up now, even though you're only seventeen and I can't help but think that because you have a baby of your own you don't want or need me anymore," Her voice is shaking badly. Is she holding back tears? I should turn around and find out but I feel paralyzed.

"When you come home things will be different. I promise." From her heartfelt tone I can tell she means it but I don't care. I'm angry with her. She knows she deserted me and it's not until I get a fucking death sentence that she does anything about it!

"When I come home it'll be in a coffin," I say spitefully. "That's if there's actually any of me left to bring home so you may as well tell me now."

"Oh yes you are. You are going to come home because you would never let Anna grow up without her mother. Do not underestimate yourself like the other tributes because I'm telling you now Oceana, _nothing_ is more powerful than a mother's love." She sounds angry. She has no right to be angry.

I remain silent to process what I've just heard.

"Mum, I-" I spin around to hug her but I'm all alone in the room.

She left without saying goodbye.

I don't know what to do because I know whose coming next. Only two people are left to see me and I don't know how I'm going to say goodbye to either one of them.

One. Two. Three. Four. Five. Six. Seven. Eight. Nine. Ten. Eleven.

Twelve.

The door handle rattles in front of me before opening.

Don stands in the doorway before me, breathing heavily, our child cradled in his arms. There's a tortured look in his eyes that I recognise from last year. Oh my god. Anna. This is going to kill Don. What do I do? What do I do?

I watch, petrified as Don places Anna gently on a chair before running at me and snatching me into his arms. His lips cover mine in a passionate kiss that seems to last forever. I can't let go and neither can he. The thought of separation is unbearable and the thought physically hurts. What will I do without him?

I need air.

He's breathing as deeply as I am and resting his warm forehead against mine.

"Don't die." His breath is cool and smells of mint while his voice is no louder than a whisper.

I nod, unable to speak. My eyes flit over to Anna who's chewing on her foot and looking at me with her wide green eyes.

"No, Oceana, look at me," Don grabs my face and forces me to look at him. "Don't die. You are not allowed to die. Do you hear me?" He's determined to get the message in and I understand. How could I die when I have them both waiting for me at home?

"Yes," I say hoarsely, nodding.

"Good," He says softly, kissing me again. "Because I fully expect to marry you when you get back."  
That smile, that perfectly white smile, I'll miss it.

"Anna," My voice comes out choked.

We both look back over to her sat in the chair, staring at us blankly. The small rise and fall of her chest confirmed she was breathing but she wasn't blinking or making any noise as she stared, making me think she was dead for a brief moment.

"That's really freaky." Don said in a stage-whisper, staring back at Anna.

"Are you scared at all?" I hiss back, glancing up at Don's blank face.

"Just a little." A small smile breaks out on his face and I can't help myself but smile too.

Seeing us smile, Anna copies causing tears to spring back to my eyes as I walked over and scooped her up into my arms.

"Oh my baby, how I'm going to miss you." I whisper to her.

She doesn't squirm in my arms as usual. Does she know that something's wrong? Does she know I'm going away and that I might not come back? I can't help but think she does as she clings to me gurgling in my ear and running her hand through my hair.

"I will come back for you," I tell her quietly. "I'll come back for you both."

I don't know if Don heard me but if he did he remained quiet as he wrapped his arms around my waist and buried his face into my hair. We stood there like that, my tiny family and I, until the Peacekeepers arrived to take them away. Anna cried as she was ripped out of my arms and so did Don as he was escorted out. He didn't fight them though like I knew he wanted to. He left quietly so that way I was distressed any more than I was already but it was too late. Anna's cries had me ripping my hair out as I tried to get to her. Why did they do this to me? _Why?_

There's a throbbing pain my right foot and a small scuff mark on the wall. How did I kick it without realizing? How did I let my baby get taken away without whispering goodbye? What is wrong with me?

I swear my mind is working overtime, trying to cram images and words of advice and comfort into my mind but at the same time I'm having replays of last year. It feels like my brain will explode.

"Miss Weaver-Smith?" An unfamiliar voice asks from the doorway.

I whip around to see a peacekeeper standing there. He blinks and takes half a step back when he sees my face. What must I look like? Some sort of rabid animal probably.

"I'm here to escort you to the train." He tells me, looking me up and down as if he's assessing my condition.

"Don't worry Peacekeeper. I'll go quietly," I tell him. My voice sounds strong when it should be barely audible after the tears that are now causing my face to itch. "The sooner we get there, the sooner I'll return home." I add quietly, not meaning to say it out loud.

"That's the spirit girl," The peacekeeper smiles at me. I can't help but smile weakly back. I've never been able to resist a smile if someone smiles at me first. It's a really annoying habit, especially when I'm angry and someone makes me laugh, putting me out of my rage.

My body seems to be on auto pilot as I walk in quick, long strides over to the Peacekeeper. I know I don't want to drag this out but I honestly thought I would be in some kind of uncontrollable self-destruct mode right now. I'm a little too calm and that scares me even more than the fight to the death.

"Is Maybel with the other tribute then?" I ask, curiosity getting the better of me as we walk the Justice Building to the back door and I'm guessing the waiting car that will take us half-way across the district to the train station.

My Peacekeeper nods in response.

Ah, she probably sensed that I was ready to rip out her sickly green throat.

"I think everyone sensed that." The Peackeeper chuckles.

"Did I say that out loud?" I ask. I could have gotten into so much trouble if this Peacekeeper wasn't so nice and understanding.

The Peacekeeper nods, a small smile appearing on his lips.

"Oops." That's a bit of an understatement.

A small black door comes into sight located at the end of the hallway and the Peacekeeper led me through it. We were in a small back street where a shiny black car idled, waiting for me. Maybel and the other tribute whose name I _still_ can't remember were sitting, squished in the back of the car as they were both so big.

"You'll have to ride in the front ma'am." The driver told me, glancing into the back.

He was right. Unless I wanted to be suffocated I should sit in the front.

"Good luck," The Peacekeeper tells me, opening the door so I can slip into the front seat.

One I'm comfortably seated the peacekeeper slams the door shut and the driver does whatever he has to do to make the car start to move. I don't really know much about cars as my family are certainly not rich enough to afford one. We barely get by without having to take out tesserae as it is. There is no way we would have a car. In the back Maybel chats away happily to the other tribute (Tristen? Trident?) about the "wonders of the Capitol". From his unresponsive grunts I guess he's not that interested and neither am I so what can I tune the green thing out with?

The car driver next to me.

He's old: the tufts of white cotton-like hair and the many wrinkles, especially on his forehead, gives that away. He has an abnormally large nose too. It looks a lot like a large shell has been stuck in the middle of his face, sat on top of a rather fine silver bar moustache that still holds remains of his breakfast. It looks like cold porridge but I can't tell for certain. From what I can see, his eyes are narrow slits in his skin and the pupils are small, beady and black that are buried under two thick white eyebrows. His lips are thin and cracked, reminding me of a small piece of paper that's been crumpled up tightly and smoothed out again. It's hard to judge his height while he's sitting down however I don't think he's very tall. Then again, I'm not very tall either and it's not like height actually matters much really. Except maybe in the Games it does. Most victors aren't small or short but there are some. Maybe I'll be one.

It's unlikely.

I've not seen this part of the district before. While I was busy staring at our driver we'd moved out of my familiar neighbourhood and into unknown territory. People I never knew stared through the transparent glass for a glimpse of my face. Why they can't wait to watch the recap of the Reaping later on I'm not sure but I don't like the staring. I want to hide my face from their greedy eyes but there's nothing to hide behind anymore. From now on I'm nothing but exposed to the rest of the country and I hate it.

Even though I know it won't make me invisible, I close my eyes and try to empty my mind but terrifying thoughts of death take control of me. It's not just my death though. Anna and Don are suddenly in the arena with me too and they're in danger. They will die if I can't get to them to protect them but I'm trapped by faceless mutations hell-bent on killing me miles away from where they are. Even though it's impossible I can't escape these thoughts or the darkness. My stomach starts to gurgle and bubble and I feel as if I might throw up but I can't. I haven't eaten anything for a very long time so there is literally nothing to puke. I hate this feeling but it proves that this isn't a nightmare. This is real and there's no way I can delude myself into thinking otherwise.

"We're here," Maybel sings tauntingly from the back seat as the car grinds to a halt. "Remember, there are cameras outside so big smiles everyone."

Suddenly, a big bubble bursts in my stomach. The engine isn't even turned off before I'm out of the car and on my hands and knees, coughing up spit and phlegm into some weeds a stone's throw away from the station. I'm sure all the cameras are locked onto me right now but I couldn't care less. The ground beneath me spins as water spews out of my mouth.

"Oh my poor dear!" Maybel clucks sympathetically, keeping well back. Of course she would. I'm repulsive.

"Miss, I'm going to have to ask you to get on the train." A strong male voice ordered from just out of my line of sight.

"I can't." My voice is all croaky. I know that if I get up I'll fall over and hit my head. If I get up they'll send me to my death.

"Miss," his voice rises, ringing with authority. "I must ask you to get on the train."

"Oh dear," I hear Maybel say quietly.

"I can't!" I repeat, not lying. I can't move. I couldn't even if I wanted to.

"Get on the train!" he shouts, spit spraying on the back of my neck.

"No!" I yell back, an open act of defiance. I just signed my own death warrant.

From the corner of my eye I can see Maybel ushering Tristen/Trident onto the train. Of course they'd leave me. Words cannot describe my disgust.

"This is your last warning!" He screams, reminding me of my mother.

"I told you! I can't move!" I scream back.

Out of nowhere hands grab my wrists and ankles. A shriek bursts from my lips and my natural reaction is to fight whatever's holding onto me with such an iron tight grip. I start thrashing about and writhing as I'm hoisted of the ground, my limbs flailing wildly in the hopes that I might get lucky and hit something. Don's name spurts from my lips as I beg him for help even though I know he can't hear me. My eyes open briefly and see a flash of white – Peacekeepers.

I don't stop fighting (or at least trying to) even though I'm starting to tire. My body is once more on auto-pilot as I scream and cry for not just Don now but for my baby as well. I don't want this. I want to be calm but it's impossible. This is wrong. It's all so wrong. Can't they see that? Yet still they want to ship me off to let me die. Sadistic, heartless bastards.

I don't know where their taking me as my eyes seemed to be glued closed. Panic fills me as they could be taking me to any kind of torture place. Even though it's useless I struggle more because I have to break free. I have to get off this train.

With no warning the hands are gone and I'm falling. What- oh, it's a bed and it's soft. I've never been on a soft bed before and- escape. Must escape. I try rolling over but hands have pinned me down now, pushing me into the bed which will probably swallow me whole. There's an awful ringing in my ears as more internal alarm bells go off. I'm still screaming I think. My throat feels raw and my mouth is still open. I can't shut it – I've forgotten how.

By chance, one of my feet catches what I think is someone's head? And the other caught someone between the legs. This was definitely pure chance but I seize the opportunity and rip myself free of the remaining pairs of hands and roll of the bed. The nearest exit is the door that's three steps away but on the second step a hand's shot out of nowhere and someone else stabs my arm. If I wasn't screaming before, I definitely am now. I can hear it over the ringing. My limbs seem to liquefy as I collapse in a heap on the floor. I can see the Peacekeepers now. There are four of them plus a man in green. He's crouched next to me, injecting a strange clear liquid into my upper arm, causing that area to sting and my limbs to go numb but on the plus side the throbbing in my head has stopped. I tingle all over and I hate it. I hate them. I hate-

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**Please review! **

**Sorry if there are any tense/grammatical mistakes in this chapter. My Beta is away on vacation and I've postponed putting this chapter up for long enough**


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